Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. It's either a miracle or an unfortunate side benefit of generations of careful management of the kingdom's magic. Either way, this idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how the kingdom's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He took another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans. Now to figure out how to ruin them completely.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She noted absently that she was going to start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nodded, then - turned away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flung its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raised her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. She felt her face being splashed with the whatever-it-was, and she thought, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses was patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dimmed. Healing auras dissipated. It stopped disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it saw - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realized that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opened the gap in her defenses again, and tugged the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there.
Aliveth Valinue felt herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thought wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and began wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opened an eye to see where she was, hoping it was going to be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. It's either a miracle or an unfortunate side benefit of generations of careful management of the kingdom's magic. Either way, this idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how the kingdom's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought, mentally pointing. It was the sort of thing more obvious from inside the defenses than outside of them, and she wasn't about to get snooty for her magic not catching it earlier. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He took another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans. Now to figure out how to ruin them completely.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She noted absently that she was going to start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nodded, then - turned away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flung its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raised her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. She felt her face being splashed with the whatever-it-was, and she thought, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses was patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dimmed. Healing auras dissipated. It stopped disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it saw - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realized that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opened the gap in her defenses again, and tugged the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there.
Aliveth Valinue felt herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thought wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and began wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opened an eye to see where she was, hoping it was going to be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. It's either a miracle or an unfortunate side benefit of generations of careful management of the kingdom's magic. Either way, this idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how the kingdom's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought, mentally pointing. It was the sort of thing more obvious from inside the defenses than outside of them, and she wasn't about to get snooty for her magic not catching it earlier. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He took another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans. Now to figure out how to ruin them completely.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She noted absently that she was going to start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nodded, then - turned away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flung its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raised her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. She felt her face being splashed with the whatever-it-was, and she thought, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses was patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dimmed. Healing auras dissipated. It stopped disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it saw - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realized that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opened the gap in her defenses again, and tugged the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there.
Aliveth Valinue feels herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thinks wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and begins wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opens an eye to see where she was, hoping it'll be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. It's either a miracle or an unfortunate side benefit of generations of careful management of the kingdom's magic. Either way, this idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how the kingdom's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought, mentally pointing. It was the sort of thing more obvious from inside the defenses than outside of them, and she wasn't about to get snooty for her magic not catching it earlier. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He took another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans. Now to figure out how to ruin them completely.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She noted absently that she was going to start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nodded, then - turned away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flung its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raised her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. She felt her face being splashed with the whatever-it-was, and she thought, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses was patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dimmed. Healing auras dissipated. It stopped disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it saw - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realized that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opened the gap in her defenses again, and tugged the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there. Well, if it straightened this twisted knot also attached to the foreign magic, anyway. Which it did, because really, while it tries not to meddle too much with magic that isn't its own, that is just too untidy for its taste.
Aliveth Valinue feels herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thinks wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and begins wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opens an eye to see where she was, hoping it'll be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. This idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how Kivenne's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought, mentally pointing. It was the sort of thing more obvious from inside the defenses than outside of them, and she wasn't about to get snooty for her magic not catching it earlier. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He took another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans. Now to figure out how to ruin them completely.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She noted absently that she was going to start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nodded, then - turned away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flung its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raised her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. She felt her face being splashed with the whatever-it-was, and she thought, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses was patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dimmed. Healing auras dissipated. It stopped disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it saw - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realized that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opened the gap in her defenses again, and tugged the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there. Well, if it straightened this twisted knot also attached to the foreign magic, anyway. Which it did, because really, while it tries not to meddle too much with magic that isn't its own, that is just too untidy for its taste.
Aliveth Vaslinue feels herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thinks wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and begins wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opens an eye to see where she was, hoping it'll be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. This idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how Kivenne's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought, mentally pointing. It was the sort of thing more obvious from inside the defenses than outside of them, and she wasn't about to get snooty for her magic not catching it earlier. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He takes another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She notes absently that she should start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nod, then - turn away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flings its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raises her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. Despite her efforts, the-whatever-it-was makes splashes at her face and eyes, and she thinks, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses is patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. It checks to be sure no one is going to die from its lack of attention (no) and then reallocates attention accordingly. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dim. Healing auras dissipate. It stops disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long and slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it sees - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realizes that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opens the gap in her defenses again, and tugs the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there. Well, if it straightened this twisted knot also attached to the foreign magic, anyway. Which it did, because really, while it tries not to meddle too much with magic that isn't its own, that is just too untidy for its taste, and not even difficult to fix.
Aliveth Vaslinue feels herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thinks wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and begins wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opens an eye to see where she was, hoping it'll be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
Crown Princess Aliveth Vaslinue thinks her current circumstances are entirely ridiculous. Who even does something like this? She's the victim of these circumstances, and quite frankly, she's embarrassed on behalf of the lord responsible. Complete lack of foresight on his part. How could he even have managed to live even this long, with such clearly malfunctioning logical circuits, she has absolutely no idea. This idiot's going to have a rude, rude awakening when Aliveth's sister gets wind of exactly how Kivenne's heir to the throne is being treated. Tying someone to a chair is really just not how one treats royalty.
He didn't even have the sense to tie her to the chair particularly well. Aliveth would be insulted if she weren't so filled with relief at any chance to get away from Lord Rithan as quickly as possible. What, did he think she'd just stay where he put her, accept whatever slimy plan he had in store for her with a porcelain mask of austerity and a sense of helplessness reserved for another type of princess? No. She didn't at all like the way he looked at her, or the way he brushed a lock of hair from her face with entirely too much familiarity. She was not going to trust that he was just going to ransom her. If he ransomed her at all. It would be inconvenient to have to deal with trauma associated with such mistreatment, and quite frankly, Aliveth would much prefer to avoid it entirely. By wriggling free of her bonds and promptly flinging herself out of the window.
Her dress isn't the best for running, but her shoes are comfortable and her wings glow in the dark. She'd rather avoid anyone knowing of her escape for as long as possible, buy herself time if she can. Every second she can steal to figure out how to defend herself against the idiot lord's very annoying teleportation is far more important than gaining distance. Clearly he took advantage of some kind of loophole her family's magic wasn't aware of. It was powerful, but not omniscient or infallible. Unfortunately. She just had to find whatever hole existed in her defenses and patch it, and then she could just make all of this very anticlimactic and fly into the night, never to be heard from again. Well, until the trial. There, she would be heard quite well.
A familiar feeling of weightlessness envelops her, and Aliveth doesn't have the time or the inclination to swear. Where is it getting through at, she demands, as she watches the courtyard she was dashing through disappear in favor of a familiar room with an open window and an empty chair. There was a flare of magic that she was ready for this time, and she saw with perfect clarity where the hole in her defenses was. There it is, she thought, mentally pointing. It was the sort of thing more obvious from inside the defenses than outside of them, and she wasn't about to get snooty for her magic not catching it earlier. Please get to fixing that. She wasn't yet Kivenne's queen, she couldn't actually hear her family's magic's words, but she did get a confirmation and reassurance. That was something, certainly.
"And where -" says Lord Rithan in that pompous accent of his. Aliveth surmised that he (incorrectly) thought it made him sound suave. "- did you think you would manage to get to?"
"I thought you'd prefer that I have a more comfortable chair," says the princess. She looked towards the guard in front of the window. Not an exit she could use twice, apparently. The door was similarly barred to her, and just for good measure, a third guard loomed behind his master. In case she tried anything. "So I went to fetch one. I'd just found a pleasant plush one when you interrupted, if you could put me back I can drag it in."
"I will be more than happy to get you anything you wish for," he replies, as if they're having a pleasant chat. Stepping closer as if they're having a pleasanter chat. Aliveth takes a measured step back.
"Excellent, the first on my list is an unguarded and unlocked window, and the second is a pair of irons around your wrists."
"Clever as always, your highness. I assure you, everything you need and more is right in front of you." He was smiling at her like he was in on some kind of grand joke. What else did he have? She turned her attention to what he had over an escape route, and spotted a wine bottle in his hand. Some sort of drug, perhaps? Drug her wine, make her very weak and pliant...?
"Oh, did you bring the irons with you? How proactive of you. Please put them on, and please ask your man over there to step away from the window."
"That," he says, stepping closer again, "is not precisely what I meant."
Aliveth matched his step again, this time into a wall. It wasn't a very large room, especially so crowded. He hadn't given her very much space to retreat. If she were her sister she could have this fool and his three thugs on the floor with broken limbs and broken egos, but she is not her sister. Large muscled men would probably be quite capable of pinning her for - for whatever this lecher had planned. If she thought about it in those vague terms she could keep some resemblance of composure. If she voiced in her mind that she thought it was quite likely that he'd - well. She would have more trouble with the composure. And she needs her head for plotting how to prevent it, not screaming.
"No? And what have you to possibly offer me, but your own head on a pike?"
"Your highness shouldn't speak of such things. It's unbecoming of a woman of such rare beauty."
It took some skill to bestow a compliment that only made its recipient's skin crawl, but perhaps the lord could give lessons. He certainly had the talent.
"Maybe you should find another one, without any relatives that would be very angry at any mistreatment." Not that he'd have the time, the minute she was back at the court he was going to begin to realize the depth of his mistake.
"How fortunate that I won't mistreat you at all. Why, I daresay you'll beg for everything I'm going to do to you." He takes another step forward, holding his wine bottle up and uncorking it. Probably some kind of drug, then. How classless, he was missing a glass. She must have ruined his grand romantic plans.
"You really don't know me very well, do you." Let's see. Push off from the wall to gain momentum in flight, and attempt to use him as a hostage? Was he carrying a knife she could steal for that plan? ... No, he wasn't. And she didn't have the upper body strength to properly choke him, she'd be pulled off him soon enough. She notes absently that she should start carrying a knife somewhere sneaky, for situations like these.
"I think I'm about to get to know you very intimately. Men, if you would?" The guards nod, then - turn away? What? What was in that bottle, it couldn't be wine -
He flings its contents at her face, catching her off guard. She raises her arms to try and shield her head a heartbeat too slow, closing her eyes. Despite her efforts, the-whatever-it-was makes splashes at her face and eyes, and she thinks, if there is anything you can do to get me away from him please do it right now!
If her family's magic had much choice in the matter, it would have removed her long before the situation had grown so dire. The hole in her defenses is patched, now it just needed to figure out how to get its family's heir away from this obvious threat. It had watched the teleportation magic's technique from the first time it had caught her, if it pulled back on its other duties and pooled itself together to aid her, it could probably keep her safe. It checks to be sure no one is going to die from its lack of attention (no) and then reallocates attention accordingly. Around the kingdom, lamp lights dim. Healing auras dissipate. It stops disentangling the hurricane in the ocean to the east; it was long and slow work, but it would keep. Personal teleportation was tricky, and didn't have the habit of scaling well. When the magic had bothered to figure out transportation magic it had always been gateways and portals, not picking someone up and putting them somewhere else. This was difficult.
And then it sees - something. Something strange and other flash in a similar (but very different) way to the teleportation it was studying, and it realizes that it didn't need to figure out how to copy the effect at all. Just how to catch its crown princess in this one. It opens the gap in her defenses again, and tugs the flash's magic minutely to tie it to its charge. It wouldn't get her far, but it would get her away, and it trusted its heir's abilities from there. Well, if it straightened this twisted knot also attached to the foreign magic, anyway. Which it did, because really, while it tries not to meddle too much with magic that isn't its own, that is just too untidy for its taste, and not even difficult to fix.
Aliveth Vaslinue feels herself become a familiar sort of weightless and thinks wryly, Let's try to avoid dramatic timing like that again, yes? and begins wiping at her face, coughing slightly. Her magic's reply felt apologetic and also slightly smug. It must have done something clever. She opens an eye to see where she was, hoping it'll be the familiarity of the royal palace to greet her.
